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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28229517">To be a good servant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverray/pseuds/riverray'>riverray</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Humor, Gen, George is a jerk, I use that one a lot but I really mean it this time, Kinda, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin is a flirt, Merlin is an idiot, Mischief, Other, Pranks and Practical Jokes, at first, humor is so subjective, just naturally, just two guys having a good time, maybe? I hate calling my own stuff funny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:09:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28229517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverray/pseuds/riverray</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin messes up, again, and Arthur decides he needs to be punished this time. So, he pairs him up with George for a day. </p><p>Neither Merlin nor George is particularly happy about it. At first.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/George</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>209</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To be a good servant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't really know how this idea came about cause I don't think anyone really cares for George? Like his part was so small. But there's this one second, just one, where Arthur is introducing him to Merlin and George just makes this really brief kinda cute face. And I was like "aw." </p><p>And then I just envisioned what a Merlin/George friendship might be like. This is a platonic relationship. Though George may have a little, tiny (man) crush. But nothing extreme, I'm sorry, I just can't imagine anyone NOT falling in love with Merlin. </p><p>Sue me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tension was as thick as fog. </p><p>That’s the only way Merlin could describe it. He rode his horse quietly behind Arthur’s, trailed by the knights as they travelled back home to Camelot in a most unusual silence that had stretched on long before they had even mounted up and began the journey home. Merlin felt bad, he really did, cause this awkward, almost tangible silence among them was his fault. That was clear as day. Arthur had made it known so not only to the knights but the neighboring kingdom they had been visiting. </p><p>Arthur and the knights were to meet and dine with King Alfred, a newly crowned king who had ascended the throne after the untimely death of his father. While the visitation was intended to be one of diplomatic importance there went an undertone of a mournful intent. Arthur wanted to send his condolences personally, greet King Alfred up front, and discuss what the change in leadership meant for their two kingdoms. </p><p>It was all going well despite the blanket of sorrow that hung over the castle due to their beloved king’s passing. The son was pleasant if not a bit stuffy and the majority of knights and squires were just as so. Merlin was more than thankful when a couple young squire boys had rushed to help him settle the knights into guest chambers. </p><p>But, unfortunately, like all good bunches one poor, miserable soul must rear their ugly head. And he came in the form of a ghastly knight who, in Merlin’s opinion, was far too short to be so mean. Merlin wasn’t necessarily tall though he certainly wasn’t short. But this little man made him feel like a giant and when Merlin greeted him he wondered if this was how Percival felt around the rest of them. </p><p>Sir Ludwig was his name and right away Merlin hit a sore spot when he let out a small chuckle at the name. Merlin had been accompanying a squire boy to the knight’s chambers, returning the favor of helping the boys out since they had been so kind in giving Merlin a hand, when the tiny knight had ripped his door open and immediately casted disapproving eyes at his squire. </p><p>The boy had nervously introduced Merlin and vice versa and that  was when Merlin was sure he had first screwed up. </p><p>“What’s so funny?” the knight sneered, not really asking but more like demanding. Merlin swallowed hard, folding his arms behind his back and shaking his head, “nothing, Sir.”</p><p>“Pray tell you weren’t laughing at me were you boy?” </p><p>Every word was a spat through clenched teeth and Merlin vaguely wondered if this man was always this angry. Merlin shakes his head quickly, ready to defend himself when the little squire to his right suddenly spoke up, “Sir Ludwig, please, let me get you ready for the feast tonight and then-”<br/>
The poor boy never got a chance to finish his sentence before Ludwig had reached out so fast Merlin wasn’t even sure what was happening until the sound of a harsh SLAP had filled the hall. </p><p>The squire was hit with such force he stumbled into the wall and Merlin dropped his jaw nearly to his chest. The squire was probably no more than 14, on the younger side, and Merlin had quickly decided a very nice and polite young man. </p><p>But the squire wasn’t even really a young man was he? No. He was a boy. A child who had just been struck with such a blow he was nearly knocked off his feet and shielding a newly marked cheek away from them. He quickly covered the handprint with his own, darting watery eyes to Ludwig and then to Merlin before giving into a shameful submission and turning away from them both, sniffles filling the air around them. </p><p>It’s Merlin’s turn to clench his jaw as he turns to Ludwig with such a glare even the knight seemed taken aback by the change. Merlin takes a large step forward, effectively causing the small man to take one back, and stabs a finger in the man’s face. </p><p>“What is wrong with you!” Merlin accuses, almost touching his finger to his nose, “he’s a child you monster how can you hit him like that?!”</p><p>The knight stutters, “h-how dare you speak to me in such a way!”</p><p>“Oh save it!” Merlin shoots back, already tired with the same old garage every noble says when someone below them speaks out, “how dare you act in such a way! You’re no knight, you’re a prick!”</p><p>And really it’s all downhill from there. Ludwig doesn’t strike Merlin, of course he doesn’t. Merlin, in his eyes, is much too big to take on unlike the child who was even smaller than the knight. But he acts out alright. Flustered beyond belief as he marches away from them to his own king, hissing out a promise of ‘you’ll regret this’ as he goes. And, of course, Arthur is notified.. And really it isn’t long before the King of Camelot finds Merlin, face red and eyes disbelieving. </p><p>All in all, the whole thing may have cut the visitation short. And Arthur remained furious with Merlin for the duration of the time, ordering the servant to stay tucked away in his designated room until Arthur could figure out how to get him out of this mess. </p><p>Somehow, Arthur does. And after only two days, they leave. Merlin tries to explain himself to Arthur, hoping to smooth things over in some way, shape, or form but Arthur wants to hear none of it. He holds his hand up in a gesture of silence, orders Merlin on his horse and leaves with his servant and knights without so much as a wave behind him to the other king who watches them go with scowling eyes. </p><p>And that’s the start of a very awkward, abnormally quiet two day trek back to Camelot. They don’t even hardly speak when they stop to rest, Arthur still looking very much stressed and royally ticked off. Even Leon seems wary around him. </p><p>When they do finally make it back to Camelot and the grooms come to gather their horses the only words spoken are from Arthur as he demands, “Merlin, come with me,” and heads up the stairs without even turning around. </p><p>Merlin sighs, handing the reins of his horse over to the stable boy. Gwaine steps up then, squeezing Merlin’s shoulder empathetically, giving him a small, pitiful smile. Merlin pats the top of Gwaine’s hand back and attempts to make light of the whole thing. </p><p>But he can’t deny he’s a little afraid of what Arthur has to say. </p><p>Arthur leads Merlin to his chambers, walking over to the large window facing out towards the courtyard and village with his hands on hips, allowing the silence to eat away at Merlin’s nerves as the servant stands awkwardly in the middle, hands behind his back. </p><p>“Arthur?”</p><p>The King whirls around, “no. I get to speak. You stay quiet, understood?” </p><p>Merlin nods and straightens up, not completely unfamiliar with angry Arthur but always dreading him. </p><p>Arthur walks closer to his servant, staring him down with hard eyes before breaking, “what were you thinking Merlin? Tell me, do you think at all? Do you understand how incredibly stupid you were this time? How dangerous that was?! I have little say in another King’s kingdom, do you not understand that? Alfred wanted to flog you!” </p><p>Merlin pales a little at that. For all his doings and all the times he ever spoke out of turn he had never been punished so severely as flogging. Stocks were about the worst of it. And that was only ever sentenced by Uther. </p><p>“He obviously relented of course, thank god. I feared I wasn’t going to be able to save you this time, Merlin. He was dead set on seeing you punished severely for your little outburst. Seriously, what were you thinking? Talking that way to a knight? Have you learned nothing?”</p><p>Finally Merlin dares to speak, “he wasn’t innocent Arthur. He hit his squire. In the face!”</p><p>“So you risk your hide?!”</p><p>“He was a boy!”</p><p>“And sometimes I feel so are you!” Arthur yells, throwing his hands up before dropping them to his side, standing only inches away from Merlin as he stares the other man down. They stay like for a moment, neither blinking before Arthur gives in, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head, “honestly, Merlin. Camelot is one thing. But this isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this and in a neighboring kingdom at that.”</p><p>Merlin frowns as he thinks back to the times he may have disregarded nobility on their travels.<br/>
Arthur had a point. </p><p>“I think you need to be punished this time.” </p><p>Merlin blanches but Arthur avoids his eyes, crossing his arms and turning away as he stalks around the room. “Punishment?” Merlin repeats, “like dungeon?”</p><p>Arthur shakes his head, stopping to lean against his bedpost and bringing a knuckle to his lip as he thinks, “no. That never seemed to have an effect before.”</p><p>“Flogged?” Merlin asks sarcastically but Arthur’s not in the mood to play as he sends a glare to Merlin, “that’s not funny.” </p><p>“Then what?” </p><p>“I think you need a lesson in how a proper servant acts. I’ll have you spend tomorrow with George, the whole day, taking lessons and observing how a real servant should behave. Perhaps that will teach you a thing or two.”</p><p>Merlin snorts, “you’re joking.” </p><p>Arthur levels him with an emotionless stare, “I had to practically beg for Alfred to reconsider his sentence upon you. Made myself a right fool in front of a powerful ally and other nobilites alike. Can you fathom the pain of 30 lashes, Merlin?” </p><p>Merlin ponders. 30? For goodness sake all he did was defend a future knight of Alfred’s. Maybe it was just Merlin but he couldn’t help but think King Alfred’s kingdom was full of dramatics. </p><p>“No, Sire,” Merlin finally murmurs, looking sidelong away from his King. Arthur pushes off the bedpost, coming back up to Merlin and places a heavy hand on his shoulder. Merlin looks to him and for the first time since they left the other kingdom Arthur doesn’t appear mad or stressed or fed up. He just looks sincere. “Me either. Not to the likes of you. Merlin, I got lucky. You got lucky. Next time…” Arthur pauses to swallow and squeeze Merlin’s shoulder, “it could be worse.” </p><p>The King gives Merlin a gentle tap to the cheek with the back of his hand, smiling ever the slightest when Merlin leans away, his face contorted in thought.</p><p>“You’ll meet with George tomorrow, follow him around, pay close attention, maybe even take note.”</p><p>Merlin looks at him confused, “what about you? Who’ll attend to your needs if both George and I are with each other?” </p><p>“Don’t worry about me. There’s plenty of servants who’ll answer my beck and call.”</p><p>“Yes but can any of them put up with you longer than a few minutes?”</p><p>Arthur scoffs, pushing Merlin gently and walking towards his door as he says over his shoulder, “have fun tomorrow.” </p><p>Merlin groans, earning a laugh from the King and a teasing grin as he opens his door for Merlin to leave. He does so begrudgingly, wanting to stay and fight this one out, try and convince Arthur he’s already learned his lesson, that he’s promised he’s changed and really Merlin will say anything to get out of a whole day spent with boring old Geroge. </p><p>But for as persistent as Merlin can be the warlock doesn’t. He leaves Arthur’s chambers and heads back to his own, ignoring the King when he wishes Merlin a goodnight, feeling annoyed with him and his great ideas. Merlin figures after the last few days of an exasperated Arthur he probably lucked out once more to leave the King’s room with him smiling and waving. </p><p>He can get through one day with George. </p><p>He hopes. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next morning Merlin is awoken by sunlight pouring upon his face, a bird’s song ringing in his ears and, when he opens his eyes, a man waiting over his bed, staring down at him with a blank expression. </p><p>Merlin gasps, sitting up right and quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, hoping maybe it was just the last remnants of a dream. </p><p>It’s not. When the blurriness is cleared from his vision and Merlin opens his eyes again he sees him. George. Standing over Merlin’s bed, his face never changing, his hands forever tied dutifully behind his back and eyes lacking any sort of spark. Merlin stares at him, a little unbelieving, as he sits in his bed, waiting for George to explain himself.</p><p>The ever perfect servant does so as if on cue, “good morning. The sun has just risen. Quickly dress. We have a lot of work to do before noon.” </p><p>“Before noon?” Merlin asks, rubbing his eyes again. He’s used to waking up early so he can wake Arthur up. But this seems… earlier. Way earlier. The sun’s up but just barely and when Merlin throws himself out of his bed he stumbles to his window to see there’s not a peep coming from the courtyard below. “No one’s even up yet.” Merlin points that out to George, gesturing to the window. </p><p>George nods, “a good servant starts his day alongside the sun. We are the last to retreat and the first to rise. Come.” </p><p>And with that, George turns on heels, leaving Merlin’s room at a pace not suitable for such an hour. Merlin rolls his eyes, already done with this man and he really hasn’t even started. He dresses, though not quickly, and fumbles with his boots as he practically falls down the stairs, George raising an eyebrow at him but saying nothing. </p><p>Merlin stands up right, catching his breath and taking notice of Gaius sleeping peaceful in his cot. The warlock can’t help but sag with jealousy. Lucky Gaius. </p><p>Suddenly there’s a hand flat on his chest and another pressed into his lower back. Merlin is forced to stand up tall and his spine straight. He looks at George bewildered, “what are you doing?”</p><p>“A good servant does not slouch. It’s not good for the back nor does it represent our masters well. Spine shouldn't be bent, back should be strong and-” George pauses to push down on Merlin’s tense shoulders, “shoulders should be square. There. Very good.” </p><p>Merlin’s brows knit together as he feels this all out. He can’t deny somewhere in his lower back something feels released of pressure but he’s far from feeling relaxed, “and are we supposed to stand like this all day? We’re not knights.”</p><p>“Not in the traditional sense, no,” George explains, his monotone draining the life out of Merlin, “but we share the same sense of duty. If a knight is to serve Camelot ours is to serve our master. With dignity and pride.” </p><p>Merlin rolls his eyes, again (he has a feeling he’ll be doing that a lot today), and goes to cross his arms. But George is quick, reaching to slap the back of one of Merlin’s hands with a sharp ‘no.’ </p><p>“Arms crossed are a sign of authority, aggression, and boredom. None of which a good servant is. You keep your hands behind your back, like this,” George demonstrates, “or in front of you, like this,” this time George intertwined his fingers together and holds them down below his stomach, “it’s a sign or openness, willingness, and, most importantly, it tells your master you are ready for your next order.” </p><p>“Great,” Merlin deadpans, clearly not caring, “let’s eat.” </p><p>“Not before Sir Bradford.”</p><p>“Sir who?” </p><p>George frowns, “a knight…. My knight?” </p><p>“Ooooh,” Merlin replies, nodding, “alright. Let’s go then,”</p><p>George reaches out to stop Merlin before he can even get a few steps in. Merlin looks at him, once again face pinched in confusion. George drops his arm and makes a show of knotting his fingers behind his back, puffing out his chest and tilting his chin upwards, stalking forward in long but calculated steps, much different from Merlin’s fast walk. </p><p>The warlock scoffs but does put his hands behind his back. He’s not walking all stuffy though, George can’t make him, and follows behind the obedient servant, hoping he doesn’t appear as grumpy as he feels. </p><p>They stroll through the corridors briskly but somehow not rushed. Merlin’s got his eyes glued to the back of George’s head, raising his brows at how the man never seems to waver in his posture. If a statue could walk this would be it. </p><p>If a statue could talk, George would be it. </p><p>“Here,” George says, stopping abruptly at a closed door on the side of the castle Merlin’s really not too familiar with. They’re so far from Arthur’s chambers and Merlin thinks briefly that he actually forgets other nobles live here. He racks his brain for any memory of a Sir Bradford and comes up with a fuzzy image of a tall man with burly features. Merlin had never even said two words to the guy. </p><p>George is facing the door with pride, knocking three times and waiting patiently for a response. So different from Merlin who hardly remembers to knock on Arthur’s door and when he does certainly doesn’t wait for a cue to enter. It’s more fun that way, he finds Arthur in ridiculous varieties of dress and acts. Like, for instance, when the King had fallen asleep in his stew while ‘reading.’ </p><p>Makes for great teasing material throughout the day. </p><p>“Stop smiling,” George chastises him quietly, “look ready. Chin up. I said up.” </p><p>“I am!” Merlin argues back, lacking the quietness of George and causing the elder servant to send him a disapproving glare. George doesn’t have time to correct him before the door is wretched open and there stands Sir Bradford only slightly as Merlin had pictured him. </p><p>He’s got red hair, messy on top of his head, and a thick beard to match. He’s actually quite handsome, in a goofy kind of way, and greets George with a voice ridden with sleep, “mornin’ George.”</p><p>“Good morning, Sir,” George repeats back politely, bowing slightly at the waist and Merlin watches before quickly bending to do the same, stumbling over his words when George sends him another glare. </p><p>“Morning, Sire.”</p><p>“Sir,” George hisses.</p><p>Oh yeah. “Sir,” Merlin corrects himself, feeling his cheeks burn slightly at the hiccup. He’s never really served anyone but Arthur and his inexperience is showing. He’s feeling a little out of his comfort zone here. He’s not used to bowing much through the day either which is probably a bit ironic. Merlin is expected to bow to everyone of noble status but he doesn't even do it for the King. Arthur never makes him, never even mentions it, and Merlin’s hardly tried it. But here he is, dipping his upper half in a sign of respect to a man he hardly even knows. </p><p>Sir Bradford looks to Merlin with knitted, red brows, his eyes coming alive as he realizes who Merlin is, “hey you’re the King’s boy.” </p><p>Merlin frowns at the choice of words, “manservant, yes.”</p><p>“Well what are you doing here? You lost or something?” </p><p>“No, I’m… working with George. At the King’s request himself.”</p><p>Sir Bradford looks to George who gives his master a nod, “Merlin needs some tips. His Royal Highness felt I was the man for the job.” George’s voice is laced with a sense of pride, as if boasting about the perfect servant in Arthur’s eyes was an accomplishment. Merlin fights the urge to sneer at him. </p><p>“Very well,” Sir Bradford concludes, stepping away from the door for the two to come in, “I have training in an hour followed by a visit to Gaius’s so he can take another look at my shoulder and then I’m on guard duty for the rest of the day.”</p><p>“Understood, Sir,” George tells him, “the usual for breakfast?” </p><p>“Yes, please.” </p><p>“Very well, Sir,” and then George is bowing again (goodness, must he go so low) and Merlin does the same (at a much less dramatic angle, mind you) and the two exist the room, heading for the kitchens no doubt. </p><p>Merlin scoffs when they’re back in the corridors, looking behind at the knight’s closed door and shuffles up next to George, “well that was as boring as they come.” </p><p>“Excuse me?” </p><p>“Is that all you guys talk about? A laundry list.” </p><p>George looks at him sharply, “what else is there to talk about? To be a good servant one must never stray from the line of duty.” </p><p>“... never?” </p><p>“Ever.” </p><p>George turns back forward, setting the pace as he has been and marches to the kitchens. Merlin jogs up beside him. He’s taller than George by a few good inches but damn, the servant could cover some ground. Merlin feels, if nothing else, he’s getting in some good exercise at least. </p><p>When they arrive at the kitchens the cooks are bustling around as usual. Audrey, the head cook, raises her face up from a pot of boiling something, seeing George and giving him a curt nod, “already on the table,” she tells him. Then, she notices Merlin and scowls at him, “you! A little early aren’t we?”</p><p>Merlin gives her a cheeky grin, “got outta bed just for you. Wanted more time with the prettiest lady in all of Camelot.” </p><p>George looks at him as though he had just said something outrageous. And maybe he had but Merlin wouldn’t know. He’s had a love/hate relationship with the plucky cook for ages now. At first, it was strictly hate. Audrey would chase him and his wandering hands (for her food, her food!) away with her wooden spoon and Merlin’s had a couple welts from it in the past. But Merlin, ever the charmer, broke her down eventually and while she still scolds and beats him (though now not leaving marks, thank you) she more often these days (though not all the time)  looks the other way when he steals a pastry or pops an olive into his mouth. </p><p>Or three, who’s counting? Audrey’s not. </p><p>There’s a couple reasons as to why George is utterly and completely appalled by Merlin’s behavior towards the cook. One, serving staff don’t act this way with each other, period. Everyone has a job and little time to do said job. All this horseplay is, by all standards, a complete waste of time. </p><p>And two… Audrey is hardly the ‘prettiest lady in all of Camelot.’ Now George isn’t a jerk. But Audrey is forever dressed in her cooking rags, hair a mess from having been up long before anyone to prepare meals for a whole castle, and is never not sweaty. Most days Audrey could pass for a man with her hair piled tightly on top of her head. Compared to the wives of the knights and other noblewomen alike Audrey can’t hold a candle. </p><p>And it’s concerning for Merlin to even claim such foolishness. </p><p>George grabs the plate designated for his knight and gathers himself together as he orders Merlin to follow him out, the petulant servant sending him a confused look as he bids Audrey a farewell and stalks after him, reminding himself of the proper posture George had demanded of him earlier. </p><p>Once they’re out of the kitchens and in the quietness of the corridors does George turn to him, obviously irked, “what was that?”</p><p>Merlin frowns, “what?”</p><p>“Disgraceful is what it was, how dare you put Audrey’s looks above your noblewomen.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Merlin asks, irritated at George for being irritated with him. What a cycle.</p><p>“What you have said is a disgrace and a lie. A good servant doesn’t lie.” </p><p>And that just strikes Merlin in all the wrong ways, “we were teasing, George. Having fun. Or are you not familiar with such words?” </p><p>George straightens up, eyes narrowing, “we have a lot of work to do.” </p><p>And with that he heads off, quicker than usual, as though he wants to get away from Merlin as soon as possible. Merlin rolls his eyes, shaking his head and following after him. </p><p>So far, Merlin thinks this day is going right to shit. </p><p> </p><p>After getting Sir Bradford’s breakfast to him a tad later than George had planned (Merlin got a sideways glare for that) Merlin helps him get Bradford ready for training, dressing him as quickly and efficiently as he can. Merlin’s rougher than George though, earning a sigh and hissed, ‘ah’ when he accidentally catches Bradford’s thick beard in the straps across his chest. Bradford, for his part, is actually much more forgiving than Arthur when Merlin pinches him by mistake, waving it off with a grunt saying, “no harm done.”</p><p>“You could probably lose the beard,” Merlin admits jokingly, stepping away when he’s finished with his hands on his hips. </p><p>George whips around to look at him with wide eyes, looking to Sir Bradford and then back at him, indicating Merlin has no doubt messed up. Merlin pales a little when he realizes he’s done the same exact thing he did to get himself into this mess to begin with. He’s spoken out of turn. Now, to be fair, Merlin actually does this alot. He does it constantly to Arthur and among the Knights of the Round Table. No one bats an eye. Except for Arthur but he’s always joking about it. </p><p>But Sir Bradford isn’t Arthur. Or Lancelot or Gwaine or Percival or Elyan or even Leon. He’s a middle aged knight who served Uther before he served Arthur and Merlin doesn’t know this man or his morals or his tolerance for servants who don’t know their place. Merlin isn’t afraid of being struck or beaten or any of the likes of that nonsense, he knows Arthur doesn’t tolerate men with such standards. But he does fear Bradford running back to Arthur, complaining of Merlin’s tongue and Arthur punishing Merlin with more time with George. </p><p>Merlin thinks he’d rather be hit. </p><p>There’s a tense silence that surrounds the three of them. George looking at Merlin, fearful. Bradford looking at Merlin, stoic. Merlin…. He’s looking somewhere between the two of them, nose scrunched up as he thinks about spending even more time with George. If only he could keep his mouth shut.</p><p>“You think so?” Bradford finally breaks the silence, his voice surprisingly high for such a big man as he reaches up to smooth down his beard with his fingers. Merlin raises a brow, “huh?” </p><p>“Is it too much?” Bradford asks, gesturing to his beard, “my wife is reluctant to kiss me, she kinda gives it a funny look. I have a small chin though. I thought maybe the beard would hide it. But no one compliments it. No one ever comments on it actually. What do you think, Melvin?”</p><p>“Merlin.” </p><p>“Is tha-” Bradford turns to George, “is that not what I said?” </p><p>“You said Melvin, Sir.”</p><p>“Well anyways. What do you think, Merlin?” </p><p>Merlin stands still, watching Bardford with big eyes, “you want my opinion?” </p><p>“It must mean something, the King asks for it.” </p><p>“Right.” Merlin crosses his arms, studying Bradford’s beard for a moment before shaking his head, “too long, Sir. Your wife doesn’t kiss you cause she can’t find your lips. You need a trim.” </p><p>George is standing behind Bradford, holding his breath as his eyes dart between his master and tag along. This can’t end well. But Bradford nods, humming as he mulls it over in his brain. He strokes his beard again, taking note how he can’t even feel his lips. “Huh.” </p><p>Finally, Bradford looks around, “George, bring my training sword.” George rushes off, grabbing the duller, lighter sword from its case and bringing it over to his master, “would you like me to escort you down, Sir?” </p><p>“No, I have stuff that needs to be done here. New linen for my bed, feathers for my pillows and my riding boots scrubbed. There’s a list. Thank you, George.”</p><p>“My pleasure, Sir.” </p><p>Bradford nods to Merlin, “Melvin.”</p><p>“Merl- you know what, another time.” Merlin waves him off and as soon as the door shuts George is practically on top of him, so close to Merlin’s face the warlock almost feels the heat of his glare, “how dare you!” </p><p>“How dare I what?” </p><p>“Speak to my master with such insolence!”</p><p>“What are you on about? He asked for my opinion!” </p><p>“After you insulted his beard!” </p><p>“I stated a fact.”</p><p>“No, you stated your thoughts. Which are NOT facts. A good servant never voices his thoughts or opinion or anything of the likes cause they. Don’t. Matter!” </p><p>Merlin blinks, feeling kinda silly for shrinking in on himself but honestly this is the most alive he’s ever seen George. He wasn’t aware the proper servant was even able to achieve such emotion. Had Merlin finally cracked him? God, how awful that would be. Merlin; the cause of breaking Camelot’s most finest servant. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Merlin says but he doesn’t mean it. He just wants an out. “I didn’t know.”</p><p>“Exactly,” George sighs, regaining himself and smoothing out his jacket, “but I’ll teach you. Come, we have a lot of work to do.”</p><p>And Merlin didn’t think he was talking about the chores. </p><p> </p><p>By the time noon had come and gone, Merlin was ready to lose it. He had given in, to an extent, molding to George’s expectations, saying little and doing whatever George instructed. He tried, he really did. But it never seemed to be enough. George was brutal in his critiques, taking on a new persona Merlin hadn’t known existed. George was quick to berate him when he did wrong and slow to praise him. And when the elder servant did give praises they were always backhanded compliments.</p><p>And Merlin had had enough. </p><p>It didn’t help that George had basically taken the day off, opting to stand like a guard over Merlin while he did George’s chores. When Arthur had originally ordered Merlin to follow George around, that’s what he figured he’d do. Just follow him around. But he had decided he’d help as much as he could, knowing George probably wasn’t too thrilled having to be followed all day either. But it wasn’t like that. No. George made Merlin do all the work and criticized everything he did. Even Arthur wasn’t this abrasive.</p><p>“Careful! You’re shining a boot Merlin not rubbing off the sole. You’re doing it wrong. A good servant never-”</p><p>“Enough!” Merlin explodes, shooting up from his spot on the ground, standing before George and glaring at him as he throws the boot down at his feet, “if you’re so particular why don’t you just do it then!” </p><p>George narrows his eyes at him, “because the King entrusted me to teach you how to do such things.”</p><p>“Oh please,” Merlin retaliates, crossing arms and never minding that George gave a look of disapproval. To hell with George. “He didn’t entrust you with anything. He’s just punishing me. Cause being with you is so boring and grating it’s far more effective than the stocks.”</p><p>“Rubbish!” George shoots back offensively and Merlin can see him coming undone, “it’s because you're imcompetent and I’m the better servant. Honestly, you serve the King himself you think you’d want to improve. You’re just lazy!”</p><p>“No, you’re just a bad teacher! I know you don’t like me. You make that clear as day-”</p><p>“How can anyone like you when you just waltz in here, stumble all over the place, and are given it all!”</p><p>“What on Earth are you talking about? You make no sense!” </p><p>“You! You who serves the King! Do you not realize what an honor that is? And yet you DON’T care! Because you’re not a good servant! You’re lazy and ungrateful and yet it all just falls into your lap!” </p><p>Merlin reels back, looking at George as if he’s only seen him for the first time. George is tense, shoulders brought up nearly to his ears and his face a bright red. His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched at his side, almost like he’s holding himself back from decking Merlin right in the face. </p><p>“George that-... why are you-”</p><p>“You don’t understand,” George says, this time sounding tired and sad as he turns from Merlin and rubs his temple, “you don’t know what it’s like.”</p><p>Merlin doesn’t respond, just stares at George defensively, waiting for another outburst. He’s not sure what to say or do. </p><p>“My whole life.” George begins, voice small.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>George turns around, eyes moist as he avoids Merlin’s, “my whole life I was taught what it meant to be a good servant. It is my whole life. My father and his father and their fathers before that. They all served the kings. The Kings. Not knights or squires or Lords. Kings.”</p><p>“Your father was Uther’s servant?” Merlin asks, confused. He remembers Uther’s servant. An elderly man who spoke like molasses and seemed to forever have his eyes closed. But he was hard working, even when his aging body betrayed him. Merlin thought he was for sure too old to be George’s father. </p><p>George looks away, “one of them , yes. But not for long. He fell ill and died when I was a boy. But growing up, until he passed, it was what he was proud of most, serving Uther. He taught me everything I ever needed to know to be the perfect servant. To be Arthur’s servant. And Uther was about to award me the position. But then you!” and George sneers his name like a bad word, pointing a finger at Merlin’s chest, “stole it from me! You came to Camelot from a poor village, picked fights with the royal prince himself, and Uther bestows upon you the honor of being the future King’s servant. All the servants were outraged! You knew nothing and still, to this day, know nothing!” </p><p>Merlin can vaguely recall his first few months in Camelot, after he had been announced Arthur’s new servant. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure at the time what that entailed and he struggled even more so to comprehend how it was a reward for saving Arthur’s life. But even more confusing was how the rest of the castle staff treated him. Cold, unwelcoming, and distant. They weren’t particularly mean to him. Just avoided him more so like a plague. Merlin didn’t think of it much and eventually, whatever the deal was, they got over it. </p><p>Was it because they felt Merlin had stolen a position from a royal house servant? </p><p>“George, I didn’t realize-”</p><p>“You never cared to know,” George snips at him, quieter this time, “but I saw you. Disrespect our prince, disrespect him even now as king, act more like a jester than a servant, do a piss poor job at everything asked of you. Surely, I thought, he’d have you thrown out in no time…. But he didn’t.”</p><p>Merlin swallows, feeling a little more than just uncomfortable being picked apart like this.</p><p>“And that…” George gives in, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he looks down, swiping at his nose and avoiding Merlin’s glance, “that just made it worse. I was born to serve the king. It was all I ever wanted. It was all my father ever wanted and to be robbed so quickly after achieving it-... and you just got it handed to you and you don’t even care.” </p><p>George grabs the boot Merlin had thrown at his feet, picking it up and dusting it off with his sleeve before grabbing the polishing brush from Merlin’s hand, never once making eye contact. He turns away from him, taking a seat where Merlin had sat and begins polishing the boot with the tenderness one might use on a living, breathing creature. Merlin watches him, his fingers working the leather with expertise and already promising a job well done far quicker than Merlin could ever. </p><p>Merlin can’t feel the anger he once had for George. Or, even the annoyance. Instead, as he stares at the back of the man he once thought had nothing in common with him and feels something akin to familiarity. He knows what it's like to have a destiny and even though George didn’t use that word specifically Merlin knows it’s the right one. </p><p>Some men were born to be kings.<br/>
Others were born to serve. </p><p>Merlin takes a tentative step forward, slowly sinking down beside George and picking up the other boot, grabbing the extra brush and going to work. George flashes him a quick glance but says nothing. They work in silence before Merlin decides it’s safe to speak. </p><p>“You’re wrong.”</p><p>“.....How so…”</p><p>“I do care.” </p><p>George looks at him and Merlin continues, “I may not be the best servant around or even a good one. Hell, I might be the worst servant to have ever walked the Earth. But I care. I care about Camelot and the people within its borders. I care about the knights and the servants and Gaius. But, most of all, I care about Arthur.”</p><p>George stops brushing and turns to him, nothing but honesty in his voice when he asks, “so why do you treat him the way you do? A good servant should never-”</p><p>Merlin holds up his hand, effectively cutting George off and he gives him a little, sad smile, “to be a good servant,” he begins, mimicking George so many times before, “one must also be a good friend. Arthur may not always get his meals on time or have the tidiest room or the most polished armour but…” Merlin shrugs, looking back down at the boot in his hand while his cheeks turn a tinge pink, “I don’t know. He’s got a pretty damn good friend if I do say so myself. Loyalty doesn’t stop at folded clothes and matching socks, I watch his back. Keep him humble. He’s got a rather big head, ya know. He needs someone to remind him he’s only human.” </p><p>George takes it in, lips parted as he thinks it all over. He had never had a friend before. There was no time for such things when he was growing up. Colleagues came in great quantity but George could hardly consider them friends. “Friend,” he muses, puckering his lips and seemingly lost in thought. Merlin raises an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“Very good,” Merlin tells him, a bit sarcastically but George doesn’t seem to notice that part and nods, “I’ve… never had a friend.”</p><p>“I hate to break it to you, Georgie, but there are just some things that can go without being said.”</p><p>George looks at him incredulously, “Georgie?” </p><p>Merlin smiles back, “yeah. Like it?”</p><p>“Hardly. It’s George. Georgie sounds so… immature.”</p><p>“Fun.” Merlin corrects and George gives him a look that tells him he doesn’t find the humor. Suddenly Merlin has a bright idea, “hey, how about this. You spent the first half of the day teaching me to be the perfect servant. How about for the rest of the day I teach you how to be… well… human?” Merlin smiles at his own choice of words and chuckles a little when George looks downright offended, “excuse me?”</p><p>“Oh, c’mon,” Merlin tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder, one that George eyes cautiously, “have you ever stepped out of your good little servant role?” </p><p>George just stares at him as if he were speaking a different language, “this is who I am. I don’t know how to be anything else.” </p><p>“We can fix that,” Merlin promises him with a wink and George blushes slightly. A man has never winked at him before. No one has. It seems so inappropriate. So wrong. And yet, when Merlin flashes him a mischief smirk, something inside George feels, for the first time, something akin to temptation.</p><p>“I- um- I’m not sure. I have Sir Bradford to-”</p><p>“Not a good enough excuse!” Merlin exclaims, jumping to his feet and gesturing wildly around the man’s room. “We’ve done everything on his list! And he’s on guard duty for the rest of the day which means we have the rest of the day to ourselves!” </p><p>“Not entirely, a good servant will report to other nobles for-”</p><p>Merlin slaps a hand over George’s mouth and it’s almost comical the way the man’s eyes go wide, “no more ‘a good servant’ stuff. If you don’t agree I’ll go back to Arthur worse than before and you wouldn’t want to be the cause of ruining a terrible servant beyond repair, would ya?” </p><p>George rips his hand off and glares at Merlin, “you wouldn’t.” </p><p>For the record, Merlin wouldn’t. He likes to have a good time not be evil. But George squirms when Merlin shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, picking lint off his sleeve like it doesn’t bother him one bit, “I dunno, I might.” </p><p>George furrows his brows, standing up and puffing his chest out in just the slightest. He’s almost 100% sure this isn’t a good idea. But he can’t help a little voice in the back of his head that tells him maybe Merlin’s right. The man may be a terrible servant but there’s no denying even the most snobbish nobles in the castle like him to an extent. Even George’s own master, Sir Bradford, didn’t just accept Merlin's opinion on his beard but had asked for it. Bradford had never requested anything of such sorts from George. In fact, they barely spoke at all out of demands and briefings. Maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to break out of this mold. Just for a little while. See what it is that makes Merlin such a terrible servant but likeable young man. </p><p>“Fine,” George says, hands tucked behind his back, “we will have it your way. You lead this time.” </p><p>Merlin cracks a huge grin (it almost startles George) and slaps him on the shoulder with a cheer of approval, “okay, first things first.” </p><p>Suddenly George takes an unpleasant jab to the gut. It’s not necessarily painful but it does catch him off guard and causes him to bend over slightly, grabbing his stomach and looking up at Merlin shocked, “what in the name of god was that for?” </p><p>“Posture,” Merlin taunts, “you can’t have a good time all straight like a stick. Give a little. Here, like this.” Merlin pushes against George’s shoulder, raising him slightly and then squeezes his shoulders, “good lord, Georgie, relax.” </p><p>“It’s George.” </p><p>“Not today,” Merlin teases him, “keep your hands at your side- no,  what are you doing?” </p><p>George’s not sure what the hell he’s doing. He looks down to see his fingers had woven together at his stomach, almost without his permission. </p><p>“Stop that,” Merlin instructs, ripping them back apart, “just… let loose. Let 'em' swing when you walk, c’mon.” Merlin waves him along and George takes a deep breath before following, fighting every urge in him not to jut his chin out and fold his arms back behind him. He can’t remember the last time he’s walked through the corridors any differently. His posture had been ingrained in him since he could walk. When they get to Bradford’s door, Merlin peaks his head out as if they’re on some secret mission and it’s George’s turn to roll his eyes at the man’s antics. </p><p>“Clear, let’s go.” </p><p>“Yes, everyone’s got duties to attend to,” George deadpans but Merlin ignores him and grabs his sleeve. George splutters, “excuse you.” </p><p>“This way.”</p><p>“Where are you dragging me?” </p><p>“To my favorite place!” </p><p>“Oh, that explains all.” </p><p>Merlin scoffs. The two of them hurry down the corridors, passing a few residents along the way and George tucks his head down when they give him a confused glance. He’s becoming more and more embarrassed to have ever agreed to whatever Merlin had up his sleeve. </p><p>Finally, Merlin drags him up to the bailey. It’s large and open and free of anyone else since it’s sometime after midday and most are busy with their jobs. George wants to remind Merlin of this when he comments on how perfect it is no one’s up here but he reframes, just stumbling after Merlin’s long legs until they cross over to the side of the bailey that overlooks the training fields where all the knights spend time sharpening up on their skills and learning new drills. Merlin and George approach the edge of the overlook, Merlin looking down and smiling excitedly before motioning for George to do the same. </p><p>George does but all he sees is some of King Arthur’s best knights; Sir Leon, Sir Elyan, Sir Gwaine. All three are leaning up against the wall of the castle, taking refuge in the little shade it provides as they drink from their waterskins and chat it up. George gives Merlin a questioning look, “what?” </p><p>“Look,” Merlin tells him and jogs over to the nearby watch tower, leaning around the open entrance and rummaging through a drawer of a small table the guards use to set their gear on when they want a break. </p><p>Merlin comes back with four, little brown bags. They’re round, tied at the top with a loose fitting string, and are leaking slightly. George looks horrified, “what is that?” </p><p>Merlin makes a face, “it’s just water. Calm down.” </p><p>George’s not so sure when Merlin shoves two of the bags into his hands, not waiting for him to grasp them before holding his own two up and giving George an impish grin, “ready?”</p><p>“For what?!” George exclaims, holding his bags awkwardly. Merlin walks back over to the side of the bailey and crouches down. George watches, eyes big as Merlin quickly leans over to drop his bags on the unexpecting knights below him. Then he quickly ducks back down, covering his mouth for the moment it takes for the bags to fall before he hears a series of groans and a loud, “what the hell?!”</p><p>“Oh great,” Leon. </p><p>“My helmet!” Elyan. </p><p>“Not again! Why?!” Gwaine. </p><p>Merlin peeks over just the slightest, seeing Elyan and Gwaine with wet heads and Leon looking at them disappointed, as if it were their own faults for getting dropped upon the head with bags filled with water. He quickly ducks again when they look up, searching for whoever dared to drench them. George looks at him like he’s gone insane. </p><p>“You’re mad.” </p><p>“Quick, toss yours!” </p><p>“And get put in the stocks?! No thanks!” </p><p>“They can’t put you there if they don’t know it was you who did it,” Merlin tells him with a grin. George shakes his head, “do you do this often?”</p><p>Merlin shrugs, “not too often. I don’t want them to catch on. I keep the table stocked up so when I get the chance, everythings ready. Now come on, hurry. More are coming.” </p><p>George, for some unknown reason even to himself, crouches over by Merlin and looks at him expectantly. Merlin peers back over the edge, waiting until all the knights are not looking up. He sees their chance when Lancelot and Percival come over to investigate. </p><p>“Now!” Merlin whisper yells at George and he quickly scrambles up enough to see the two knights, aims his best, and drops the bags. He hits the floor of the bailey as though someone was catapulting a boulder at him, covers his head and closes his eyes. Merlin laughs, finding entertainment in George’s nerves more than the actual act itself. </p><p>“Ah!” Percival shouts and it’s an octave higher than usual. </p><p>Lancelot says nothing but when Merlin peeks over he can see the knight spitting out water from the bag that had landed squarely on his head. Leon’s fighting a smile between the four of them, “I stayed dry.” </p><p>Gwaine squirts the remains of his waterskin into his face. </p><p>“That’s it!” Elyan declares, “I’m getting to the bottom of this, whoever you are up there I’ll find you!” </p><p>And then Elyan’s darting into the castle, objective? The bailey. George gets up, nervous and frantically grabs Merlin’s elbow, “we have to get outta here!” </p><p>Merlin nods, allowing himself to be hauled up and the two of them run from the bailey and back down the stairs, rounding the corner and through the corridors, no real direction. Just away from the bailey before the knights get there. </p><p>When they round a corner their luck runs out and George almost smacks right into Elyan’s armoured chest. Elyan stops up quickly, looking at a frazzled George before seeing a smiling Merlin behind him .</p><p>“Merlin,” Elyan greets. “What are you up to?” </p><p>Merlin clears his throat, ready to tell whatever fib he can conjure up before George cuts in, suddenly looking ever the part of the perfect servant he is. His spine straight and arms behind his back, his face taking on that emotionless stare once more as he says, “Sir Elyan. Merlin is in my company today learning to be a better servant at the King’s request. We were just headed to pick up Sir Bradford’s laundry.”</p><p>Elyan blinks before a smile crosses his face, “ha! Sorry Merlin,” he says before slapping the boy’s shoulder as he passes and heads towards the bailey once more, leaving them to their own devices. </p><p>Once he’s out of ear shot, Merlin turns to George, “quick thinking. Look at you!”</p><p>George gives him a small smile, relaxing back into a more natural pose, “thank you. It felt… really wrong, lying to a knight.”</p><p>Merlin pats him on the back, “don’t think of it as a lie. Think of it as… part of the fun.”</p><p>George rolls his eyes but it's fonder this time, “you have a weird way of viewing fun. What would’ve happened if we got caught?” </p><p>Merlin shrugs, really not sure. He doesn’t bother himself with worrying about the consequences, a trait Gaius and Arthur hate with a passion. </p><p>“So.. now what?” George asks, almost bashfully as he looks to Merlin much like a child looks to an adult. Merlin beams, “glad you asked, Georgie, we should celebrate our great escape.”</p><p>“Great escape?” </p><p>“Yeah, back to the kitchens. Sneaking sweets from Audrey is a great pastime.” </p><p>It’s not a great pastime, if you ask George. It’s a great way to get your bum spanked with a wooden spoon if that’s what you’re into. It’s easy, George finds, to sneak into the kitchens. Especially since no one suspects George of tomfoolery. Merlin, however, has all the cooks who notice on edge. Some try to shoo him off and he defends himself by saying he’s with George who nods and smiles. </p><p>Audrey has her pastries laying out and about and she’s nowhere to be seen. Merlin takes advantage of that and walks right over and grabs a piece of what appears to be cake, stuffing it in his mouth and saying around a mouthful, “so gud ya try it.” </p><p>George hesitates, looking around nervously. Passing cooks who aren’t Audrey just look at Merlin tiredly, as if this is far too common for them to care. So George reaches out, takes a piece of cake, and takes a small bite. </p><p>“No,” Merlin says, “eat it like you mean it, c’mon,” and then he pushes George’s hand, causing him to smoosh the cake into his own face. It leaves sweet frosting on the tip of his nose and around his upper lip. He pulls it away and quickly turns to Merlin, knitting his eyebrows together. </p><p>Merlin laughs at him, almost choking on his own piece and that’s when he lets out a yelp, jumping up and whirling around to see Audrey standing there, face angered, holding the wooden spoon she had just smacked across Merlin’s bum. </p><p>Merlin grabs his bottom protectively, backing away from Audry and the cake he had dropped to the floor before hurrying away, yelling back at George to do the same. George locks eyes with Audrey who looked way too much like an angry, mother bear and George had picked up one of her cubs. He does his best to smile sweetly at her, gently places the piece of cake down and backs away slowly before turning on his heels and running after Merlin.</p><p>He’s not fast enough and that was the first and only time George has ever had a wooden spoon across his arse. </p><p>When they’re safe in the central part of the castle, Merlin stops to catch his breath, smiling at George who’s doing the same, “you still have frosting on your face.” </p><p>George reaches up, touches it gingerly before wiping it off with the back of his sleeve. “God, Merlin. I’m tired, my rear ends sore, and now I’m sticky.” </p><p>Merlin frowns, “that’s not- those are terrible words to put together like that.” </p><p>“Is this really how you spend your free time? Annoying everyone and having a good laugh about it?”</p><p>“Not always. Most days it’s just Arthur I annoy. And Gaius. Days like today? Those are just bonuses.” </p><p>George watches him for a moment before smiling with him and chuckling a bit, “you’re like a boy who never grew up.” </p><p>“Thanks?” </p><p>“No, I mean… you just… enjoy everything. It must be nice.” </p><p>“Well you could too, if you just let yourself. How do you spend your days off?”</p><p>“Looking for nobles to serve.” </p><p>“Riveting.” </p><p>“It’s what I’m good at.” </p><p>“I don’t know, Georgie. You’re pretty good at this stuff too. I’m having fun with you. Who woulda thought.” </p><p>George appreciates the sentiment but waves his hand like it’s no big deal. Once they’ve caught their breath, Merlin continues the rest of their adventurous day playing other small pranks he usually conducts around the castle. Nothing as major as dropping bags of water on unsuspecting knights or stealing food from the bear in the kitchen but still just as fun. George can’t remember the last time he had ever smiled this big or laughed this much. He hadn’t had anyone to share in a bit of fun with since his brother had left when he was 16. And even then, their idea of ‘fun’ was racing to see who could clean a sword faster. George had never experienced such enjoyment the way Merlin did and by the end of it he wasn’t so sure he was willing to give it up. </p><p>When the sun starts to set, Merlin sneaks them up the long, sloped stairs on the watch tower that looms in the back of the castle. It’s the tallest one the castle has to offer and George admits to have never been up it, he honestly didn’t even realize it was open to climb up. He kind of thought it was just for looks. </p><p>At the top, it’s open and they’re so high up George feels like the floor moves beneath him and his head swirls from the altitude. He’s absolutely mortified when Merlin sits himself between the short pillars, turning to dangle his legs over the side and sending George a smirk as he pats the spot next to him. </p><p>“Absolutely not. Merlin, get back over here. If you fall and die it’ll be on me. How do I explain that one to the King?” </p><p>Merlin snorts, taking the waterskin that he had strung across his chest off and taking a swig, “if this is how I go I’m sure Arthur wouldn’t be too surprised.” </p><p>“I beg to differ,” George argues back but takes slow, cautious steps to where Merlin’s seated, peering over the side and almost wanting to throw up at how high up they are. </p><p>“It’s not so bad,” Merlin tells him, genuinely attempting to make George feel better, “just don’t look down, look ahead. It’s beautiful.” </p><p>George looks up and sees the hot, golden sun dipping behind the mountains in the distance, casting hues of soft oranges and pinks in the sky and the light is bright and vibrant. It almost makes the leaves of the trees look like they’ve caught flame. It is quite the spectacle, George will give Merlin that. He’s still not sure about dangling his feet off the edge though. </p><p>Merlin shoves the waterskin into George’s chest, smiling encouragingly at him when he motions for him to take a drink, “maybe it’ll help.” </p><p>George isn’t quite sure what he’s getting at but he takes a sip anyways and his eyes widen when the taste of a sweet wine touches his tongue. He looks at Merlin incredulously, “wine? In a waterskin? You’re quite the country boy aren’t you?” </p><p>Merlin laughs at that, taking the waterskin back. He had snagged it from Gaius’s on their way up and George hadn’t paid it any mind, they had done a lot of running and mucking around. “I guess so,” Merlin agrees, taking another drink. </p><p>George watches him, admiring how he can so carelessly drink wine from a waterskin on top of a watch tower as the sun sets, never seeming to care if it’s improper, dangerous, or downright foolish. How freeing that all must be. </p><p>George says to hell with it, climbing between the pillars and settling himself down on the cool stone just as Merlin had done. Merlin watches him with amusement as George makes the mistake of looking down, causing himself to immediately close his eyes and tilt his head back up, “oh god.”</p><p>“More?” Merlin chuckles, handing the wine over and George takes it without complaint, letting the savory substance cascade down his throat in more than just one, dignified sip. Merlin blinks, pleasantly surprised at George’s bravado and puts his hand up when George offers it back, “yours.” </p><p>“What? It’s yours.” </p><p>“I’m actually not a big wine drinker.” </p><p>George tsks, “shame on you.” </p><p>“That’s what they say.” </p><p>“Then why’d you bring it?” </p><p>“Thought maybe you’d need it. You don’t really strike me as the kinda guy willing to sit on a ledge without a little encouragement .” </p><p>George opens his mouth to protest, wanting to prove Merlin wrong one way or another but he’s got a point. Any other day he most certainly would not be sitting on the side of a ledge willingly. </p><p>But it’s not the wine, he’s just trying to keep up with Merlin. </p><p>“Do you do this a lot?” </p><p>“Hm?” Merlin hums, watching the sun dip lower and lower.</p><p>“Come up here and risk death.”</p><p>“That’s a bit much, isn’t it? I’m pretty clumsy, I’ll admit, but I think I know enough not to fall off.” </p><p>“It’s not about knowing, accidents happen.” </p><p>Merlin grins, “why so worried? You could get my job then.” </p><p>It’s supposed to be a joke but to George it's a stab in the chest, a reminder of all the things he had shouted at Merlin earlier. He hadn’t given his words a second thought until now and as he recalls just exactly what he said he can’t help but feel guilty for ever saying them. Merlin had proven to be, dare George say it, a real pleasure to be around. He was a bit silly and brazen, improper and probably made light of everything far too much. But he was also very kind, considerate of everyone he ran into (literally ran into) from Audrey the cook to Arthur the King, and, for the first time in a long time, gave way for George to allow his own self a bit of freedom. </p><p>“Merlin,” George says, voice quiet and pained, “I'm terribly sorry for what I said to you earlier. I should’ve never called you such things. I was just… jealous, I suppose. And I didn’t understand how you got to where you are so effortlessly. I’ve worked my whole life for such a position and I just-... I’m sorry.” </p><p>There’s a moment of silence that passes between them before George chances a glance at Merlin. He’s already looking back at George, his blue eyes seeming so much more intense with the warmth of the sun shining upon them. His black hair is haloed by the rays and when he smiles with his teeth George has to look away. </p><p>“Wasn’t expecting that,” Merlin admits, his voice low and teasing. </p><p>George rolls his eyes, “don’t make me regret it.” </p><p>“I’m just kidding,” Merlin tells him earnestly, throwing an arm over his shoulder, causing George’s cheeks to grow warm. He’s not used to so much touching. Or any touching at all. Even among his family they seldom embraced or anything of the sorts. Merlin was the opposite, always pushing George around playfully or knocking his shoulder.</p><p>“I’m- uh- I’m sorry too, for what it’s worth. I didn’t take you all that seriously this morning. And I may have thought some things about you I probably shouldn’t’ve. I didn’t realize under all that stuffy proper servant act you were actually a really great guy.”</p><p>“Oh, how sweet,” George says sarcastically. Merlin chuckles. </p><p>“No but seriously. I also didn’t realize how much it all meant to you. And your family. I think I understand you a little better now, Georgie. We could be good friends.” </p><p>“Friends?” </p><p>“I think so, yeah?”</p><p>George looks at him again, a cheeky smirk playing at his lips as he leans into George’s personal space and peers up at him. George slowly begins to smile back, nodding before pushing Merlin away playfully, “yeah. Friends.” </p><p>They stay up there until the sun disappears and everything is bathed in it’s afterglow, a hazy night appearing above and threatening to take over. When they retreat back in, Merlin heads to his and Gaius’s shared chambers, joking with George all the way there. George has to head to Sir Bradford’s chambers where the knight will be returning soon from his guard duties and need readying for bed. For the first time ever, the thought is daunting to George. And when he voices this to Merlin the other servant throws his head back, laughing.</p><p>“Well, you know where I live,” he tells him with a grin as he opens the door to his room and steps backwards inside, ready to close it, “if you ever need a break or anything you know? I’m up for it.” </p><p>George smiles, “I suppose you would be. Goodnight.” </p><p>“Goodnight!” Merlin says back, shutting the door with a wave. George’s smile fades as he slowly turns back around and begins a slow trek to the side of the castle Bradford stays in, head down as he makes his way.</p><p>Before he can get too far, the door to Merlin’s chambers opens again, and said servant pokes his head out around the door frame, “Hey! Georgie!” </p><p>George turns back around, surprised but not unhappy to see Merlin smiling back at him from down the hall, “thank you!” </p><p>“For what?” George says, truly confused. It’s not like he was the one who took Merlin on some spontaneous adventure. The only thing he had done was demand Merlin do all his chores. And then critique him when he did. </p><p>Merlin shrugs, “you’re not so bad, ya know. Thanks for just being there.” </p><p>George stares at him, blinking a few times before smiling back with a nod, “I should probably be the one thanking you.” </p><p>Merlin shrugs again, “probably. See you!” and with that he’s gone again, the door shutting once more. George turns back around but this time he’s still smiling. </p><p>He could get used to this.</p>
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